Love Never Forgets
by Helena Mira
Summary: Words has reached the children's maternal grandparents that things are serious between Nanny and the Professor. When they come to visit, they discover that she is everything that their daughter would have wanted in a stepmother. Will she now be forgotten?


_The parents of the Professor's first wife come for a visit to renew their acquaintance with their grandchildren and meet the woman who has captured his heart. The meeting is bittersweet however, when they discover that her sweet and caring nature is everything that their daughter would have wanted in a stepmother. Has their daughter been forgotten?_

_Episodes referenced include "The Tyrannosaurus Tibia" and "The Balloon Ladies."_

_The larger context of this story is the "Love Makes A Family" series, however it is somewhat out of the chronological sequence of events of the series at this time._

_I do not own these characters and make no profit from them._

**Love Never Forgets**

The school year had begun again with the usual hubbub associated with the annual fall rite of passage for all students and teachers. This was nowhere more evident than in the Everett household, where, after a summer full of lots of new and different activities, things abruptly shifted gears. For some, this was an exciting time of new experiences and situations. For others it was a rough landing when the end of summer of outdoor activity, meant a dramatic shift to the classroom routine. Things were finally settling down when a new challenge popped up on the horizon.

When the Professor returned from the university late one Thursday night, Nanny could immediately see that he was troubled. He had called earlier, explaining that he had gotten caught at a last minute in meeting regarding a student, and asked that she save some dinner for him. By the time that he finally arrived home the children were all in bed and asleep, so that she was able to greet him at the door with a hug and a kiss. He lingered in her arms for a few extra moments, tightening his grip and holding her close. It was not his usual gesture of comforting her however. He seemed to be drawing comfort from her this time. Looking up, she softly kissed him and said, "Why don't you sit down and have some dinner? I have some pot roast and mashed potatoes warming in the oven."

"Ah! My favorite. I won't even ask how you knew that I would need it!" he said.

She smiled softly. "After all this time, I am surprised that you would even think to ask."

"You're right," he said, trying to cheer up. "I must be really tired."

He followed her into the kitchen and obediently sat at his place at the table while she brought him his plate. As she put it down, he gently grasped her wrist and pulled her forward for a kiss. She obliged gladly, allowing him to take his time and search her mouth deeply, to her own enjoyment as well as his. When he was done, he reluctantly released her so that she could sit beside him.

"You know there's always more of that when you're done," she said with a smile. "But you better eat your meat and potatoes if you expect dessert."

"Oh, there's chocolate cake, too?" he asked playfully, albeit without his usual light-heartedness.

"Of course, but I had something else in mind," she replied seductively.

He smiled but found it difficult to keep up his cheerfulness. She could see that when he was finished eating all he wanted to do was go into the living room to spend some time in the comfort of her arms. Whatever was bothering him, he was doing a very good job of concealing it from her. That made her worry. However, she decided to try to help settle him by making light chatter about the events of the day. Thankfully, it had been a quiet day, but it also left her with little to go on about. When she ran out of words, he decided to make it easier for her by going to the living room first, while she straightened the kitchen.

After she was done cleaning up, she left to discover him in there looking through one of the photo albums that was stored in the cabinet drawer. She sat beside him and looked over his arm. There were pictures of the three children with his first wife and her parents.

He seemed scarcely aware of her presence, but after a moment asked, "Have you seen these?"

"Hal showed them to me months ago, before, well . . ." she faltered, lost in her own sad memories.

"I'm not surprised. It's a bit sad because he's the only one that really remembers her. I had thought that maybe Butch might, but I guess that he was just too young," he sighed.

Phoebe put her arm around him and leaned on his shoulder. This was a reverse of their usual positions. Most of the time it was she who sat pining for past and regretful of all she had lost. He was always her comfort and her strength. Now it was her turn. As deeply as she loved him, she wanted to be there for him whenever he needed her.

He slowly closed the book and put it down. He turned and taking her into his arms held her tightly and buried his face in her golden curls on her shoulder. Softly she patted his back and murmured, "there, there," as if he were a child. Whatever he needed to tell her, he needed to tell her in his own time. She would hold him all night if he needed, although she sincerely doubted that she would need to.

At last, he broke away, and put the album back in the drawer. He opened the liquor cabinet and she sharply said, "No, we promised Dr. Meyers."

He looked regretfully at the bottle of scotch and closed the door. Returning to her, he once again took her in his arms and said,

"This is hard for me talk about, to you. I don't exactly know how you're going to take this."

"Well, neither of us will know if you don't say something. Since you obviously won't be able to sleep until you do, then you might as well say it now," she replied calmly.

"Phoebe, I got a phone call today from Helen's father. Word has gotten back to them, I don't know how, that things have started to look serious between us. The Williams want to come to dinner on Sunday and, among other things, meet you," he said and looked at her helplessly.

She actually felt relief. She had known that sooner or later Helen's parents were bound to show up. In fact, she was somewhat baffled by the fact that after all of her time with the family, nearly two years now, she hadn't met them. It was a pity because meeting under the present circumstances would be more difficult for all involved. The impending visit was clearly going to be a lot more difficult for Hal and his oldest son than for her. The Williams were even more likely to be hurt. Butch and Prudence had virtually no memory of their mother, and Prudence was very demonstrative with her affections in her direction. More so than either of the boys, she had fully accepted her into her heart as her mother. It would be a tough visit all around.

"That's not really unexpected, Hal. I can see how they would want to meet the woman who would be their grandchildren's stepmother, if their father ever got around to asking," she adding lightly teasing.

He smiled. "Had to get that one in there, didn't you? You're right of course, but I'm just not looking forward to them coming. It's not like I've stopped loving Helen. It took me forever to get passed her loss. In fact if it wasn't for you . . ."

"I see," she replied thoughtfully. "You're feeling guilty."

"That's a hard one to nail down," he said, staring straight ahead. "If I feel any guilt, it's because what I have with you is so much deeper than what I had with her. You're obviously different and, quite honestly, I'm different. I'm older. I see things in you that I've fallen in love with, that I never really thought about when I was younger."

"That's perfectly understandable," she said carefully.

"You would think. But Helen was their only child. It hit them very hard when she got sick, and then when she passed away," he explained. "As you know, they have hardly seen anything of the kids, in fact since you've been with us they have never once come to visit. They have a hard time looking at them without thinking of her."

Phoebe thought about his words. She knew that every one of their friends and family, and even acquaintances, in town, could see the deep love they shared. And so often it was pointed out to her, that the children behaved as if indeed she was their mother, rather than just their nanny. Then, there was the living arrangement. Folks had pretty much accepted the idea that their domestic situation was respectable. They were very careful not to share any displays of affection in public. In fact they still addressed each other as Nanny and the Professor, except when they were completely alone, as they were now, or when they were with their counselor Dr. Meyers.

She could not imagine how Helen's parents would feel, upon coming into the home that he had shared with their only child, and finding another, younger woman, in her place and caring for her children. Hal had always firmly maintained that Helen had wanted him to remarry, her only request being that his new wife accept his children as her own. She had been gone for almost four years now, however she suspected that her parents were still grieving. As she herself was coming to learn, such devastating loss is not easily healed.

"Hal," she said quietly. "Please don't worry about me. I am secure in both your love and the love of the children. I actually feel quite sorry for them. They have let whatever ties they once had with the kids slip away. I doubt that they really know them, or you, anymore. Sadly, Butch and Prudence may not be as sensitive to their lingering grief as they might be, although I will talk to them. You need to talk to Hal, but for a different reason. I know that he still thinks about his mother, very often in fact. Trelawney has also brought to my attention that it bothers him sometimes when you, shall we say, show your affection towards me. He remembers when you showed those same loving gestures towards his own mother and he feels conflicted."

"Trelawney knows that?" he asked surprised.

"Trelawney has felt the need to explain to him that we have not yet . . . Oh dear! How shall I put this? . . . consummated our relationship," she replied, not looking him in the eye.

Hal turned a little pink. "My son thought of that?""

"Your son is a normal, healthy thirteen year old boy. He knows how things work between men and women or, more accurately, husbands and wives. He's just been trying to draw the lines between the dots," she said with a smile.

"Well, I did have 'that talk' with him a while ago," he said. "You're right, it sounds like we really do need to have another man to man talk. I'm surprised that Trelawney didn't stoke his fears."

"Trelawney may be very open with her opinions about our relationship," answered Phoebe, "And she may tease. But there is no way that she would ever believe that we would, uh, sleep together before the wedding. Our culture at home is very traditional. That sort of thing is just not done. But she does know the facts of life. She has already informed me on more than one occasion that she does not intend to spend half her life changing nappies."

"I suppose that's more teasing," replied Hal.

"Rather ironic, don't you think? Considering the fact that I changed many of her own nappies when she was a baby," she said.

Hal looked worried. "Phoebe, what are the chances that she'll decide to play the wise little oracle?"

"Hard to say," she replied. "But you should realize that she is not playing. Nor does she consciously do it. It only happens when the spirit moves her, so to speak. She can be very odd in this way, even for a Figalilly, but her psychic connections are genuine. However, from what I have seen, all of her pronouncements, as you so aptly call them, are always about or with some kind of reference to me. That is because, as sisters, we have always shared a very close bond. I see no reason why she would have anything 'unusual' to say to the Williams, unless one of them says or does something to provoke her."

"Neither do I. However, it is very likely that Bernice, Helen's mother, might just do that," said Hal grimly.

"I will have a talk with her about behaving herself, although will only be effective up to a point. Most of this has nothing to do with her, so she should just stay out of it," Phoebe added. "She is able to curb her impulsive tongue, when she tries."

"Pity she doesn't try more often," replied Hal.

She could see that he had relaxed. While he was not looking forward to Sunday, at least he was assured that she would help him through.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Sunday afternoon came and Hal found himself nervously trying to tie his tie. Finally in despair he went to Phoebe who neatly tied it and gave him a kiss. He swept her into his arms and she whispered into his ear, "I love you."

The house looked neat as a pin as always. The children were still dressed in their church clothes. Trelawney had been invited to attend a theatre performance at the university with the Fowlers and would hopefully miss the Williams. Nanny thought that it was a good thing. It would be one less point of confusion for the Williams to deal with. She and Prudence were arranging the flowers in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Nanny decided to let the Professor get it. She heard the door open and the voices of greeting, and then the Professor called, "Hey, gang, guess who's here?"

Prudence looked up at her and said, "Don't worry, Nanny."

"I'm not concerned, dear, don't you worry," she answered.

Taking her hand they walked out into the hallway where Hal and Butch were waiting with their father. The older couple looked happy to see Hal and the children, but tense. Fortunately, as they entered, they were focused on Prudence and not her. Ignoring her, Mrs. Williams smiled at little girl and said, "Why Prudence, look how much you've grown up. Don't you have a kiss for your Nana?"

Prudence, who was normally very generous with her kisses, took a step behind Nanny.

Her brother Hal said, "Come on, Pru. You remember Nana and Papa, right?"

She nodded and reluctantly came forward to dutifully kiss her grandparents and then immediately retreated to Nanny's side. Now that they had greeted Prudence, the Williams turned their attention to her.

"Bernice, Tom, I would like you to meet Nanny. Nanny, this is Mr. and Mrs. Williams, the children's grandparents," said the Professor.

"How do you do?" she said warmly, extending her hand.

They politely shook her hand and said, "Pleased to meet you."

However, Nanny could see that they were not really too pleased to meet her. Mr. Williams was more discreet about it, but Mrs. Williams was quite openly examining her. She was dressed as always, in a neat skirt, high-necked blouse and apron. Her long fair hair was swept up off her face with a ribbon. She had gone to no extra trouble with her appearance, but her sense of Mrs. Williams was that she was looking to find fault. Rather than continuing to stand about the hallway awkwardly, she cheerfully said,

"Well, I have to attend to my pots in the kitchen. Professor, would you like some refreshments in the living room?"

"Yes, thank you, Nanny, that would be great," he replied.

"Is tea good for everyone, or perhaps you would prefer coffee, Mr. Williams?" she asked.

"Why, yes," he said in surprise. "I would much prefer coffee, thank you."

"I'll help you," said Butch and Prudence together.

"Well, I don't need two helpers for this. Butch, why don't you come with me and Prudence you can become better acquainted with your grandparents," she said smoothly.

Prudence looked as though she was about to object, but catching Nanny's eye thought better of it. She thought that now she knew what it was like to be Trelawney sometimes.

When Nanny and Butch returned with the snacks, Mrs. Williams decided to engage her in conversation.

"So, Nanny," she said stiffly, "What is your real name?"

"Why it's Phoebe Figalilly," answered Nanny sweetly, determined not to give the woman any opportunity to read disrespect into any remark she might make.

"Interesting, and where are you from?"

For once, and mostly for the Professor's sake, she decided to answer directly.

"I was born in Cornwall, in England, in a little village outside Tintagel."

"In a kingdom by the sea," added Prudence, with a little smile.

"That's right, dear," said Phoebe gently.

Mrs. Williams had decided that she was going to conduct their conversation like an interview. She sat up a little straighter and assumed a more formal expression. Nanny steeled herself, knowing that a couple of very intrusive questions were coming up.

"So, are your people still there?"

"Most of them," replied Phoebe politely. "Many of my family love to travel."

"Trelawney lives with us now," added Prudence.

"Trelawney?" asked Mrs. Williams.

"She's Nanny's little sister. And now she's my sister too," said Prudence finally showing a bit of spirit.

"Really?" she looked at the Professor. "This is a most unusual situation."

Her statement hung in the air. In order to fill in the gap, Prudence piped up, "Love makes a family."

Ignoring her, Bernice Williams turned to Nanny and asked coolly, "So what brought you to the States?"

"My wanderlust, you might say. Like many other members of my family, I also enjoy traveling," answered Nanny calmly. That was a question she had frequently fielded before.

"Well then, it seems that you have lost it since you came here," came back the reply with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Nanny could see that everyone, but her, was starting to look uncomfortable.

"I've stayed here because I'm content, needed you might even say," she replied smoothly, using almost the exact words that she had used during Aunts Agatha and Justine's first visit.

"And how did you know that you were . . . needed here?" once again her voice had an edge.

At this point the Professor decided to jump in and put an end to what had become an only marginally polite conversation. He could see that the children, especially Butch and Prudence were becoming upset by the veiled innuendos that they couldn't quite understand, but knew were designed to be hurtful.

"I believe that it was the employment agency that made that call, wasn't it, Nanny?" he said. "After the long-suffering Miss Dunbar quit."

"Not to mention the other four that quit that year," said Hal, only just barely under his breath.

"Yeah," agreed Butch in a louder voice. "But she was the easiest."

"Practice makes perfect!" asserted Prudence, with a giggle.

"Oh, brother!" said Hal, putting his head in his hand.

"Did you really say just THAT? Was all that nonsense on purpose?" asked the Professor, looking around at the three children in surprise.

"Oh, man, Dad," said Butch. "One of these days you've really got to get with it."

Finally, to stop the foolishness that she knew was intended to deflect the attention from herself, not to mention avoid the repercussions to the children's honest, albeit late, confessions, Nanny jumped up and said, "I must check on my roast."

"What's for dinner tonight?" asked Mr. Williams, glad of the chance to change the subject.

"Leg of lamb with mint jelly and creamed potatoes and spinach," replied Nanny smartly.

"Why that's my favorite!" he said, clearly delighted.

She left with Prudence at her heels, but almost immediately the little girl came back looking downcast.

"Does Nanny need something?" asked the Professor hopefully.

"She said that she needs for me to get out from under her feet," said Prudence.

As she worked alone in the kitchen, Nanny felt sorry that things were going so badly out in the living room. She didn't have to be in there to know that Mr. and Mrs. Williams' hearts were breaking. All other things being equal, they had fallen so far out of the family sphere that they no longer knew what everyone was up to, or even who the children really were. Added to that was the fact that the Everetts were all afraid of inadvertently hurting their feelings with a careless word. Conversation was extremely awkward, and therefore it was not much in the way of a family reunion.

But Mrs. Williams was being openly hostile to her, and that was not helping her to score points with the grandchildren who barely knew her. It was understandable that she might not like her position in the Professor's personal life, but it also seemed as though she genuinely disliked her. Still, grief is not only powerful, it can also be irrational. She had not met Hal until a couple of years after Helen had died, but that didn't seem to count for anything with her.

On a purely rational, logical level, there was no basis for comparison, as the two women had never crossed paths. Yet Mrs. Williams seemed intent on looking for anything that might even smack of impropriety. As she had suspected she would, Mrs. Williams had leapt on to the issue of Trelawney's presence in the household. At least the Professor was bring careful not to pour more salt on the wounds by outwardly showing her the least bit of fondness. The younger children were less scrupulous.

Butch came in looking for more cookies.

"What did you say?" she asked, meaning what had compelled his father to send him out of the room.

"Oh, nothing. I just mentioned that Tim Lenihan's mother wanted you to help with the PTA, even though you weren't our official Mom yet," he said with a shrug.

She smiled in spite of herself. Who knew what part of what discussion had generated that. Butch left with the cookies and shortly after Prudence came in.

"Daddy says that I need to help you now," she stated happily.

"And what did you say?"

"Oh, nothing. I just asked Daddy when you were going to be my real Mommy," she said as she began to look around for something to do.

Ouch, thought Nanny. She was beginning to feel a bit annoyed with Hal, who was the one child who could actually give the Williams the assurance that Helen was not entirely forgotten. It's time for that young man to speak up, she decided.

Now that Prudence was away from their uncomfortable visitors, she chattered away happily about different things. Nanny was only half-listening when she heard her say, "I wish that Trelawney was here. Dinner is always so much more fun when she's here."

"Hmmm," said Nanny noncommittally. "Speaking of dinner, why don't you call everyone in?"

As Prudence skipped off, she double-checked to make sure that the table was perfect. In a minute, they all had entered. Hal was deep in an animated discussion with his grandfather about the summer science program he had just finished. Mrs. Williams was giving a good imitation of interest, but clearly had her mind on other things.

When they arrived at the table, the Professor directed everyone to his seat. As always, she was seated at his right, and Prudence seated beside her. Then Butch was next to him on his left and Hal next to Butch. Mrs. Williams was seated beside Prudence and Mr. Williams beside Hal. Prudence, mostly out of habit, pushed herself a little closer to Nanny. Mrs. Williams gave her a husband a significant look when she saw that Nanny and the Professor were seated next to one another.

Once they were seated, the Professor looked around and said, "Whose turn is it?"

"Mine, Dad," said Butch, and then, as if in fast forward, blurted out, "God . . . thank you for this food and all your blessings, amen."

Prudence giggled and Hal rolled his eyes. The Professor said patiently, "Okay, Butch. Now let's say it again like you mean it."

Assuming an angelic expression, Butch bowed his head and repeated respectfully, "God. Thank you for this food and all your blessings. Amen."

"Amen," the others responded. The Williams looked at each other. This was the first time that they had ever heard grace said at the Everett table. It was something that

Nanny had insisted on only a few months ago, when dinners had been starting off as noisier and noisier affairs. It was a way of settling everyone down, as well as giving thanks to the Lord.

Mrs. Williams looked at the centerpiece and asked, "Did these roses come from the garden?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Prudence. "Nanny and I cut them a little while ago."

"I remember when your mother planted those bushes, dear," said Mrs. Williams wistfully.

"Nanny takes care of them now," responded Prudence. "Nanny takes care of the whole garden."

"Do you share the English love of gardening?" asked Mr. Williams pleasantly. Nanny could see that his view of the situation was beginning to diverge from his wife's.

"Yes, I do. I was quite pleased when I arrived here to find that the garden, although not well maintained at that point, had been clearly planted by a horticulturist. It was obvious that whoever had put in the various trees and shrubs, planted those that they knew would thrive," answered Nanny, seizing on the opportunity to start a real conversation.

"So when you came here . . ." he looked at her.

"A bit less than two years ago," she supplied.

" . . . the garden needed attention?" he finished.

"Nanny said it wasn't a garden," explained Prudence. "It was a tangle."

Mr. Williams, seeing an opening for getting to know the young woman better, became engaged in the topic.

"What a pity! Helen loved to garden, as a hobby of course. I recall that when you bought the house, Hal, one of the things she liked best about it, was the potential of the property for the garden areas," he said.

"Yes," said the Professor. "That was what sold her on the house. And she did spend many hours planning and planting out there."

Butch had been sitting quietly and thinking, an unusual combination of activities for him.

"So then it was like _The Secret Garden?" _he asked.

"You might say that," answered Nanny.

"What's the secret garden?" asked Prudence.

"It's a book. Mrs. Clement read it to us in class last year. A little girl has to go and live with her uncle in England after her parents die in India. She finds a secret garden at the house where she is lives and brings it back to life," he explained.

"There's a little boy at the house too," remembered Hal, who had also heard the book in the third grade. "He is sick. His mother was the one who planted the garden, but after she died no one took care of it and it was locked up."

"Yeah," said Butch. "That's what made me think of it. Our Mom died and the garden turned into a tangle. Then, when Nanny came, she fixed the garden up again."

After a moment of silence, Mr. Williams asked, "So, Nanny, is gardening different here in the States?"

"The climate in England is very different, certainly much cooler and wetter than California," she responded, eager to get away from the topic of the book. "So, of course, the plants are different also. I met my first gopher here as well."

"Homer?" asked Prudence.

Nanny gave her a warning look but it was too late. Mr. Williams asked, "Who's Homer?"

Before Nanny or the Professor could stop her, she answered, "He's the gopher who was digging in the backyard. Nanny convinced him to move to the front yard and leave the roses alone."

"Really?" said Mr. Williams, with a twinkle in his eye. Nanny could see that he was viewing Prudence's statements as a bit of childish whimsy. He seemed to be playing along with what he viewed as her little fantasy.

"Oh, yes!" answered Prudence seriously. "But after he moved to the front yard last year, he dug out Daddy's . . ."

"More potatoes?" interrupted the Professor.

"Yes, please," said Mr. Williams.

"The climate is more desert-like here, right?" asked Hal, who knew that his little sister's gopher story was taking the conversation into something a danger zone.

"Yes, England is much greener," supplied Nanny, once again happy to have avoided a difficult spot.

"Do you have droughts in England, Nanny?" asked Hal. "The way we do here in California."

"We do have droughts, of course, but they're very unusual. A bigger problem is flooding from too much rain," she replied.

The conversation hit a lull, so the Professor said, "Dinner is wonderful, Nanny."

"Oh yes," replied Mr. Williams. "This leg of lamb is delicious. I can't remember when I've had better."

"Wait until you taste dessert," said Butch. "Nanny made apple crumble with cheese."

"Why, Bernice," said Mr. Williams. "That's your favorite. And you were afraid that Hal wouldn't remember these kinds of things."

Out of habit, the Professor looked quizzically at Nanny, who promptly directed her attention to her meal. She was aware that Mrs. Williams had noticed, and was watching them closely.

However, Mr. Williams, determined not to allow his wife to regain control of the conversation, had returned his attention to Hal who continued to recount his summer program. When that conversation ran out of steam, Butch talked about his little league team and his disappointment that they hadn't made the playoffs.

"Well, perhaps you'll have better luck next year," suggested his grandfather.

"That's what Coach says. If you want you can come to some of my games next year," said Butch.

"I would like that very much, Butch," replied his grandfather.

"In a few months," said Hal. "You can come to the science fair at school. I have a very special project that I am working on."

Mr. Williams was touched that the boys were so eager to welcome him back into their lives. He began to see that they held no grudges for what they could easily have interpreted as their neglect over the past few years. He surreptitiously looked over at Nanny. It was becoming evident to him that the children had begun to demonstrate the homely values that she so clearly lived out herself. He realized that perhaps their willingness to invite him might come from the fact that he was treating her kindly. If Bernice continued to try to hurt her, he had no doubt that it would backfire in her own relationship with the children. He wished that his wife would start to come around.

"Time to clear dishes," said Nanny cheerfully. "Boys' turn. Dessert and coffee in the living room, Professor?"

"That sounds perfect," he replied.

Butch and Hal slowly got up to help her. Seeing their obvious reluctance, Mrs. Williams jumped in and said, "Why don't you men go into the other room while we girls clean up in here."

"But it's not my job tonight," objected Prudence.

"Don't worry dear, I'll reorganize the schedule so that it all works out fairly," said Nanny.

"Good," said Butch. "That way Trelawney won't get out of her turn."

"Sometimes I think that that kid has a scorecard for a memory," chuckled the Professor as he stood up.

"Speaking of scorecards," said Mr. Williams. "What's your handicap these days? I'm assuming that you are still playing golf."

"That's right," said the Professor. "Try to hit the links at least once a week."

"Oh, brother!" Hal rolled his eyes. "Now we'll have to listen to that for the rest of the evening."

"Listen to what?" asked Butch.

"Don't you remember? Once they start talking about golf, it's impossible to stop them. It used to drive Mom crazy," he said.

"No," said Butch. "I don't remember, but it would drive me crazy too."

"Boys, if you're not going to help, then clear out," said Nanny firmly. "I need space to move around."

The boys got out before she could give them a chore to do. Prudence, Mrs. Williams, and Nanny worked together in uncomfortable silence. The air had become so chilly, that even Nanny didn't know what to say.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

By the time they had reached the living room, the Professor realized that his sons had vanished. Tom Williams also noticed, and commented, "Some things never change."

There was a moment of silence, and then he added, "I wish that Bernice wouldn't punish herself like this. She's a lovely girl, Hal, kind and generous. It's obvious that she loves both you and the kids."

"I think that I'm the lucky one," replied the Professor. "It still amazes me that a beautiful young woman like that, would be willing to take on a middle-aged widower, with three kids and a menagerie of animals."

As if to prove his point, Waldo, the family's large English sheep dog lifted up his head and said, "Woof!"

"I have to admit, I was surprised to see the dog," said Tom. "Helen would never have permitted such a creature in the house."

"I got him for the boys after she . . . passed," explained the Professor. "They were begging me for a pet and when we went to look at puppies, he was the choice."

"Well, he seems like he is a good dog."

"Most of the time, the operative word being, seems," he said. "I'm curious, how did you find out about the household situation?"

"Well, it was actually one of Helen's old friends in town. Pretty big gossip from what I can tell. She talked to Bernice for quite a while and got her all worked up, a Mrs. Dodge. She told her that her son was in Prudence's class in school," he replied.

"Good grief!" exclaimed the Professor. "I can just imagine what she told her."

"That's good," answered Tom. "It saves me the embarrassment of having to repeat it. I, for one, thought that it was ridiculous, but Bernice, well, she still hasn't gotten over Helen's loss. She was happy to latch onto anything she could to criticize."

The Professor was silent, bothered by the fact that Bernice was now alone in the kitchen with Nanny and Prudence.

"Hal, before she died, Helen had a long talk with both of us about what she wanted to happen after she was gone," began Tom. "Bernice took it hard then and now I can see that she still hasn't accepted it. Helen made it pretty clear that she hoped that you would remarry, and that it would be someone who would love the kids like her own. I think that Bernice got it in her head that no such woman could possibly exist, and so this news was kind of a shock."

"Helen made me promise that when I remarried, I would choose someone who would help the kids grow up into healthy, happy adults. It turned out that there was no choice involved with Phoebe. After she was in the house a few days, everything seemed to fall into place. Almost without realizing it, we fell in love, and that was it," said Hal.

"Well I'm glad to hear that you don't always address her as Nanny. That's just for the kids' benefit, isn't it?" he asked.

"Them and the whole town," grimaced Hal. "It's been very hard to convince everyone that everything's respectable with her living in the house like this."

"Then why don't you just marry her or, for the heck of it, even get engaged. It's pretty odd that you're both settled on each other, but you're not even engaged yet," replied Tom.

"I know, but she's been through a rough time this year. Her parents died suddenly and tragically. Both she and her sister have suffered great traumas. But in the last three months, with one exception, things have reached an even keel," he said. "I guess that, now, I'm just waiting for the right moment."

They heard the front door and turned to see Trelawney come in.

"Good evening, Professor," she said dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Good evening Mr. Williams."

"Good evening, Trelawney," responded Tom cheerfully.

"I can see that I've been talked about," she commented.

"Only in the most general way," said Hal. "You still have a chance to make a good impression."

She smiled charmingly, but answered airily, "I do believe that Phoebe needs me in the kitchen."

After she left, Tom looked questioningly at Hal who shrugged. He wouldn't even try to explain.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

When Trelawney entered the kitchen, she could see that it was almost organized and that Phoebe was coping with a most uncomfortable situation. She was certainly in need of her help.

She began by running to her sister to give her a hug, and say, "Hello, Phoebe! Have you missed me? Don't answer that. Hello, Mrs. Williams! Hello, Pru!"

Nanny decided to make a proper introduction.

"Mrs. Williams, may I introduce you to my sister, Trelawney Rose. Trelawney, this is the children's grandmother, Mrs. Williams."

With a smile, Trelawney extended her hand, which Mrs. Williams reluctantly took. However, not to be intimidated, Trelawney grasped it firmly and very warmly shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," she said politely. "I'm sorry that I missed you at dinner, but I was just attending a most splendid musical entertainment by the University Players."

An uncomfortable silence followed, so she continued,

"Oh, Phoebe! You must get the Professor to take you. There are these two young chaps in London, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, the ones who wrote _Jesus Christ Superstar. _Remember? Well, they have written this absolutely marvelous musical called _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. _It's not even been on Broadway or the West End yet, but performances just keep popping up. Everyone's just mad about it."

She was glowing with enthusiasm. Prudence caught on and said, "Nanny, can we all go?"

"It sounds like it would be a nice outing for the whole family," replied Nanny. "I suppose that you would not object to going a second time, love?"

"That would be smashing!" cried Trelawney. "And I do believe that it is safe to return to the living room. They are done talking about golf."

Grabbing the apple crumble and plates, she led the way. On her way past the stairs, she hollered up, in a most unladylike way, for Butch and Hal to come down for dessert. After the pounding of feet and racing in to grab the best seats, they all settled in for some dessert.

Trelawney served the dessert with her most excellent company manners. Pleased with her theatrical experience and bursting with life and vitality, she tried to jolly the others along. She was also purposely ignoring all of the uncomfortable subtexts and innuendos of the atmosphere, even though she, better than anyone else in the house, could both read and interpret them. She had promised Phoebe that she would behave herself and was determined to live up to that promise.

As Nanny entered the living room with the coffee, it was clear that the men were discussing the chances of the LA Rams in the present football season. The kids were enthusiastically digging into their dessert. Only Mrs. Williams sat apart.

Nanny was pleased that the Professor and Mr. Williams were now completely at ease with one another. Despite her own growing discomfort, she felt sorry for Mrs. Williams who was still so troubled. However, her feelings began to shift, when it became obvious that the woman was bent on making trouble.

"Well," she said to her husband. "It seems that we were bothered for nothing. It is obvious that whatever is going on here, it's not serious. Why, she hadn't even got a ring."

The silence in the room bespoke the effect of her observation. Only Prudence was puzzled by the insinuation. Nanny could see that both the Professor and Trelawney were struggling to control themselves, he with his temper. Mr. Williams looked frankly embarrassed, while his wife was triumphant. Trelawney, as soon as she read her thoughts, became angry herself.

"Phoebe doesn't need a ring," she declared with a toss of her head. "She is quite definitely promised to the Professor."

At her words, Prudence understood what was going on, and throwing her arms around Nanny, made her own declaration, "My Daddy IS going to ask Nanny to marry him, and then I am finally going to have a real Mommy."

Trelawney was instantly sorry for the result of her impulsively made defense of her sister. There was a shocked silence in the room.

"Prudence, dear," she said, trying to salvage the situation. "You know that Phoebe will only be your Mommy here on earth, but your real Mommy is presently in heaven with our Mum. I think that she may be very sad to be looking down now, and seeing how sad that you are making her Mommy and Daddy."

"I don't want an angel Mommy," insisted the little girl. "It's okay for you to have an angel Mommy, because you knew her when she was your earth Mommy. Nanny is going to be my REAL Mommy!"

Nanny looked at the Williams and her heart ached for them. She knew the loss that they felt. The boys were willing to accept their errant grandparents back into their lives, but Prudence had seen Mrs. Williams' hurtful statement as a threat to her own peace of mind and her dreams of a "happily ever after" for the family. She obviously had no idea that the little girl was patiently waiting for the day when Nanny and the Professor got married and gave her a baby sister. Suddenly she realized that it would be a good idea not to allow the conversation to reach that point.

Trelawney read her mind and gave her a nod.

"Prudence, have you done your homework?" she asked.

"I still have to practice my spelling words," she said.

"Let's go upstairs and you can practice them with me," she suggested.

"But I always practice them with my Daddy," she objected.

"Well, why don't you practice them with me and then you will recite perfectly for the Professor. Wouldn't you like that, sir?" she asked him.

"Why yes, Trelawney," he replied. "Prudence, why don't you surprise me with how well you know them?"

"Okay, Daddy," she agreed and went over for a kiss. With a rather baleful look back at Mrs. Williams, she followed the older girl upstairs.

"Come on, Butch," said Hal with a sigh. "Let's finish our homework."

Butch thought about rebelling, but seeing his opportunity, grabbed the pan with the rest of the apple crumble and headed upstairs. The Professor rolled his eyes.

He then reached out his hand towards Nanny and taking it she sat beside him on the couch. Likewise, Mrs. Williams sat beside her husband.

To try to break the ice, Tom Williams said, "Well, Bernice, I'm afraid that's what you get for listening to gossip."

"I can't believe that Prudence is completely rejecting Helen's memory in favor of . . . her," she said gesturing in Nanny's direction.

Ignoring the insult, Nanny said gently, "She isn't rejecting anything. She has no memory of Helen. She as much as said so, when she told Trelawney that there was a difference between their two angel Mommies."

"And you can't know how much that hurt," Mrs. Williams replied bitterly. "You cannot imagine the loss."

Nanny looked at the Professor with a plea in her eyes. Immediately recognizing her need, he returned her gaze with his own, full of compassion and encouragement. Allowing herself a moment to absorb his strength, she turned her attention back to the older couple.

"Mrs. Williams," she continued, in the same soft and gentle voice. "I understand more than you realize. Trelawney's angel Mum and her angel Papa, are also mine. We lost them less than a year ago."

Mrs. Williams looked at her hands. It was difficult to tell what she was thinking. However, Mr. Williams looked at her with compassion. He had caught the earlier shared glance between Nanny and the Professor. He now realized why his son-in-law was reluctant to push things too quickly.

As a man who had been happily married for many years, he recognized the unspoken commitment and devotion that existed between them. He only wished that he could make his wife see that, married to this woman, Hal would provide the stable and loving home for Helen's children that she had wanted for them when she had passed away. If indeed she could see them from heaven, as the young girl had been so certain, it would surely make her very happy.

Nanny perceived his thoughts and was grateful. She knew that, after they left, he would continue to try and convince his wife that Hal's marriage to her, far from disrespecting their daughter's memory, was indeed fulfilling her final wishes.

"Mrs. Williams," she said kindly. "Please try not to take what Prudence says too much to heart. The boys have both invited you back into their lives. Since Hal's parents live so far upstate, it is difficult for them to build a relationship with them. I grew up in the midst of a large family in England and I have deep appreciation for the value of family relationships, especially across the generations. You are always welcome in this home."

"Thank you, dear," said Mr. Williams, when his wife refused to answer. "It's getting late and we still have an hour's drive home. I think that it is time that we say our goodbyes."

"I'll get the children," said Nanny.

The Professor turned to the Williams as they all stood up. "As Phoebe said, you're always welcome. If you give her a chance, I am sure that Prudence will come around. She's really a kindhearted little soul. Phoebe has been a good influence on her in that direction."

"I can see that she has been a good influence on all the children in that direction," said Mr. Williams warmly.

Mrs. Williams continued to look away, but her husband looked directly at the Professor. With the slightest inclination of the head, he indicated his approval of the proposed match with the lovely young woman who had so graciously ignored his wife's insults and returned them with kindness. Whenever Bernice finally came around to accepting her presence in the family, it was obvious that she would be welcomed, and that her relationship with the children would sustain no long term damage.

When the children came down to say their goodbyes, each obediently lined up for kisses, even Prudence who had been reluctant earlier. Trelawney hung back a little, with a knowing expression on her face that immediately concerned the Professor.

"Goodbye, little Trelawney," said Mr. Williams.

"Goodbye Mr. Williams," she answered politely, and then turned to his wife. She stood directly looking at her, with her hands neatly folded in front of her. In a sweet musical voice she said,

"If you listen quietly, in the stillness of the night, you will hear the angels singing with the music of the spheres. True love is never forgotten, and love itself never forgets."

Without warning, she turned and walked up the stairs. Everyone else looked up after her. Nanny and the Professor looked at each other and shrugged. After a minute, they returned to their farewells, and the Williams left to wrestle with their own issues.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Later that night, Hal went to see his father in his study.

"Dad," he said. "Can we have a man to man talk?"

Hal looked up from his work and saw the serious expression on his son's face. He decided not to put off the discussion.

"What is it, son?"

"Dad, sometimes I feel kind of weird when I see you and Nanny together," he started.

"In what way?" asked the Professor, glad that Nanny had warned him ahead of time about his concerns.

"Well, it's just that sometimes when, you know, you kiss her and stuff, I can remember what it was like when, you and Mom would, you know . . ." he was faltering.

"Hal," said his Dad. "I can see that you have some things on your mind that we need to talk about. In fact, I'm glad that you are talking to me, rather than using your imagination."

"Thanks, Dad," said Hal. "I'm a little bit worried about Nanny, and well, you, and how you're not married or even engaged yet. And well, when I see you with her and it reminds me of how you were with Mom, it makes me wonder if when we kids are not around, if you act like you did with Mom, when we kids weren't around."

The Professor felt bad, seeing his son getting so tangled up in his statements as he tried to avoid stating the obvious. He decided to help him out.

"Hal, I think that you are trying to ask me if Nanny and I are sleeping together, but not really sleeping, if you catch my drift," he added.

"Yeah, Dad, that's it," admitted Hal in relief. "I mean you love each other and stuff, and all the guys at school say that, well, that's what men and women do when they're in love with each other, even if they're not planning to get married, but you guys are . . . so . . . well . . ."

"Hal, I really am glad that you are giving me the chance to discuss this with you," he said. "I want you to learn that a man who is really in love with a woman, respects and honors her in all ways. The act that you are talking about will only happen between Nanny and I within the boundaries of marriage. It is a part of the lifelong commitment that we are planning to make to one another, when we're ready."

"I guess that that is the part where you want to have children together," he stated.

"Yes, we do. When you love a woman, as much as I love Nanny, there is nothing more that I want than to see her bear my child," said the Professor seriously. He wanted to impress on his son the depth of his love to the woman who would ultimately become his mother. "If we jump the gun, so to speak, then that joyful occurrence will become a cause for worry and anxiety. I am not going to let that happen."

"Dad, will you promise not to get mad if I ask you something?"

"It's hard to make that promise without knowing what it is, but let's say I'll do my best."

Hal took a deep breath.

"Dad, if you don't want to worry about that, then why don't you just use birth control?"

It was a logical question for his generation. He knew that part of the whole sexual revolution was that new and better methods of birth control were allowing women to engage in sexual activities with a freedom that had previously only been allowed to men. Once again, he was glad that his son was coming to him with the question, rather than someone who might give him another opinion.

"Hal, Nanny and I are a bit old-fashioned. There's more to making love than just avoiding pregnancy, if you aren't looking to conceive a child. And don't think that I am trying to tell you that it isn't normal to want to get a whole lot of physical pleasure from it. However, I believe that that level of intimacy with a woman should be reserved for a committed relationship," he stopped for a minute and thought.

"Hal, this may be a mistake," he said honestly, "But I am going to tell you that I have slept with women on a very . . . casual . . . basis. It was very different. And, to be perfectly truthful, it was disappointing."

"I understand what you are saying, Dad," said Hal thoughtfully. "I feel better about you and Nanny. You see, I was worried about her. You know, it's obvious that she is a real old-fashioned kind of girl, and it makes me feel good to know that you know that too."

"Don't worry, Hal. It may seem like I am taking things slow, or maybe I don't see any reason to go any faster because I am already 'getting what I want' from her, as your original question implied. But before you know it, all you kids will be complaining when someone's crying wakes you up in the middle of the night," he said with a smile.

"I know Dad," said his son with a similar smile. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, son," he answered and returned to his work.

In about a half hour, Phoebe walked into the room and said, "So you've had your man to man talk?"

"How do you know? Or do I even need to ask?"

"Hal came up to me a while ago and gave me a big hug. He assured me that you would take very good care me," she replied with amusement.

"You know I will."

"That's what I told him," she said.

"Phoebe, about Trelawney's latest pronouncement . . ." he started.

"Hal, if you strip away the theatrics and mystical overtones, what you have is a very logical statement, 'true love is never forgotten, love never forgets.' It's almost like a gnomic," she explained.

"I know, it's just that I still haven't been able to wrap my head around the fact that whenever we find ourselves in intimate circumstances these days, I am filled with a feeling of remembrance. Not just of you, but of us," he said.

She smiled cryptically.

"Sometimes, Hal, love is an enigma, but always know, love never forgets."

She invited him into her arms and began to passionately kiss him. As his body was once again flooded with sensations of recognition, he chose to welcome them without question. Perhaps they were there because for several months they had been expressing their love in this way.

She read his thoughts and knew that although he appeared to accept them as an explanation for the unexplainable, he knew that there was something more, and that in truth, no matter how distant or far away, love never forgets.

**The End**


End file.
